Magneto's Acolytes' Day Off
by EreshkigalGirl
Summary: Rating only for a bit of stripping. At the end. Title explains nicely.
1. Default Chapter

Another joint fic by Loup Garou 42 and Panther Nesmith, typed up by PAnther, witha lot of comments by Loup. This is the second in the series, but the most recent fic to get done. The stories are likely to be in no particular order after this. I'm sorry, but we don't write that way when we work together for some reason.  
  
We own nada. Do you know how hard it is to slpit nothing betweent wo people?  
  
___  
  
Magneto looked at his supreme fighting team. The result of years of endless searching and bribing and other things. Tey were theh future rulers of the world. They were elite. They were powerful and destructive. They were. . .falling asleep standing up.  
  
Magneto jerked Gambit and Pyro off the floor. Colossus, whom they'd been leaning on, went slightly off balance and almost fell. Sabretooth snickered from his corner, and Pietro was ready to tell them off for slacking.  
  
"It seems we're a bit tired today," Magneto said, still levitating the two men. They knew better than to point out they'd been crashing an FoH bus until five am the previous night.  
  
"However," Magneto continued, "Seeing that you did such an excellent job on your mission last night, take the day off."  
  
All five men looked up. Gambit and Pyroe were set on the floor. All of the Acolytes, as one, rushed for the door.  
  
Once in the hall, John started stripping. He took off everything. Well, almost. He left on his rubber duckie boxers; a fact the rest of the Acolytes were quite grateful for.  
  
Sabretooth went to his room and slept for twenty four hours straight. Pietro went to annoy the Brotherhood. Peter and Remy went to their rooms and changed into their chill clothes. They then went to join John in the living room, where he was watching tv.  
  
"What's on?" Piotr asked.  
  
"Cowboys playing the Packers," John said, sprawled across the love seat (LN: why there's a love seat in the secret base of an international terrorist we'll never know.). (PN: Erik Lensher, international man of mystery.)  
  
"T'ank God f'r ESPN 2," Remy said.  
  
During the comercial break, they decided to go get something to eat from the frige. And pantry. And anywhere else ther may be food stashed.  
  
They found a little less than half a bag of chips, some Chips Ahoy! cookies, the crumbs on the bottom of te cronflakes bag-in-a-box, some half finished sodas, LEFTOVERS -God forbid- and ice cream.  
  
"Ooo! Ice cream!" John exclaimed.  
  
"Mon ami," Remy cautioned. "_Chicks_ sit around eating ice cream."  
  
"Fine, mate, I just won't share any with _you_ then."  
  
They all grabbed their food of choice - except John, who had to settle for ice cream nad not what he really wanted (arguing with Remy always made John realise how damn good looking the boy was). They then reconvened in Magneto's answer to the institute's rec. room.  
  
___  
  
Short chapter, I know.  
  
REVIEW! 


	2. Eat Off!

Chapter 2- Sorry it took so long. It was Panther's job to type it out, but she's got so many to do, she fell a bit behind (big shock there). So here's the next chapter, and more will be forthcoming shortly. I hope. Oh, and since last chapter you only get to find out what Pyro's wearing (the rubber duckie boxers!) I shall now inform you what the other two hot slabs of muscular male meat are wearing. Remy is in a pair of faded, very comfy red plaid boxers and a wife beater = P (pant, pant!). Piotr's in a pair of cut off sweat pants, and a white T-shirt (mmmmm... ().  
  
Disclaimer- I own... let me think now... none of it. If I did, I wouldn't be posting HERE would I? We? Whatever.  
  
For those of you (all three of you) that reviewed: WE LUV YOU SO MUCH!!! COME BACK!!!! I'm no good at the individual stuff, and you probably don't really want to read it anyway, so let's just get on with the story, huh?  
  
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The three guys munched and basically vegged out until they finally slipped into unconsciousness. They all got a good four or five hour nap in before hunger attacked like a kitten with claws, and about as annoying. Piotr was the last one awake and found that he was alone in the TV room. He got up, wearing just a pair of grey shorts that had been cut from sweat pants (A/N: they did do one thing right in the movies. Rrrairrrr!) and went to the kitchen. Remy and St. John were once again scrounging for something real to eat.  
  
"I... I hate t' say it," Remy sighed deeply. "But I t'ink de only t'ings left t' eat are... de leftovers."  
  
"Please tell me you are kidding," Colossus pleaded mildly.  
  
"'Fraid not, mate," Pyro said. "Jeeze, how old _is_ some'a this stuff?"  
  
Piotr said something softly in Russian. Probably something along the lines of: When did we eat last, anyway?  
  
Remy and John stood in the open doorway of the refrigerator, trying to see if something would magically appear if they let out enough cold air. Finally Remy smirked and looked over at St. John.  
  
"Bettchu won' eat it, doh!" (A/N: you can tar and feather my friend Robert for that one.)  
  
"What? The _leftovers_?!" John asked.  
  
"I have got five dollars that says you won't, Saint John," Piotr joined in the challenge.  
  
"_Ten_ says you won't either, metal boy," St. John shot back.  
  
"OOH! Stakes!" Remy grinned. "Twen'y each if ya c'n finish off t'ree leftovers- each, not t'gethuh."  
  
Piotr looked into the fridge and frowned. "I see no steaks." Remy laughed while Pyro pulled out a rice-like substance and walked over to the table, all gung-ho for the money.  
  
"Not like pieces of cow," John explained. "Stakes, like gambling stakes."  
  
Piotr nodded and pulled out a pot of leftover chili. After lifting the lid to find it nearly dehydrated, he rethought his decision. "Twenty dollars is not a lot of money."  
  
John pondered this while the Cajun tried to figure out how to convince him otherwise.  
  
"More than I got," St. John said. "Hey, this is that stuff you made last week, Remy. It's...cold."  
  
Piotr sat down at the table across from John and went to get a spoon. He started digging his first bite out, shoveled it into his mouth, and looked up at the ceiling, pondering.  
  
"I think Sabertooth made this," he mused, post-swallow. "I did not, and you two would have added too much spice."  
  
"I like t'ings spicey," Remy defended himself, a little offended. Just watching them eat was making him more hungry. [Mebe I should go grab de icecream.]  
  
Pyro finished his rice and looked back at the fridge. "Two more? I'm screwed."  
  
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A/N: Okay, I need all three of you to review of you want the next chapter. I'll take two of you. I'LL EVEN TAKE ONE!!!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! I'M DESPERATE!!!!!!!!!!!! But I do need some feed back if you want me to load up the next chapter. I told you I love, didn't I? Just checking. Cuz I do! Really, I do. Review. 


	3. round 2 John! round 3 salmonella!

Thank you so much for reviewing! Tell your friends. If for no other reason, striptease later on. Woo-hoo!  
  
Oh, disclaimer: Everything I do not own, I do not own.  
  
Remy laughed and tossed St. John an unmarked, opaque Tupperware container. When he opened the lid the reek that wafted out of it was intense.  
  
"Ulgh! Remy, mate, come on!" Pyro exclaimed. "I eat this and I'll have to go to the emergency room with food poisoning."  
  
"Twenty dollars or not, he cannot eat that," Piotr agreed. "But either way, put the lid back on it! It stinks!"  
  
Remy peeked inside before the lid was back on. Inside there was an assortment of molds growing over whatever the food substance used to be. Maybe a pasta of some kind; it was impossible to tell. The entire container was thrown into the garbage and Remy reached for something else to give John.  
  
"Fine, fine," he grabbed a tin foil covered plate off one of the shelves. "Here, eat dis."  
  
Pyro lifted the foil to see a... fried chicken breast, he thought. It looked dehydrated, but he'd already passed up on one item, and at least this one wasn't a garden yet. He went and got a fork, but when he tried to stab the piece of meat it rebounded off.  
  
"Ummm...?"  
  
"So use y' teeth an' fingers," Remy suggested.  
  
[Twen'y dollars better be worth it,] John thought.  
  
Both young men watched John wrestle with the lift over chicken. It was like watching wolves eat on the Discovery Channel.  
  
Piotr looked away first and realized that he was out of chili about ten seconds before Remy did. Gambit looked back in the fridge and tried to find something else that was still edible.  
  
"Here, Petey. Pretty sure it ain't alive."  
  
Colossus took the bowl covered in tin foil and looked inside. In it was Jell-o, with fruit bits wiggleing around. Piotr made a face.  
  
"This is John's..."  
  
"Travesty?" Remy suggested.  
  
Piotr nodded. "I am allergic to it," he decided.  
  
John grabbed the bowl, gulping down the last of his chicken. He attacked his last portion with the determination of a man who has nothing but his life to lose, and money to gain, so what's the harm?  
  
"O-kay," Gambit shrugged. "Um... here."  
  
It was a smallish Gladware bowl-thingy full of a red goopy-looking substance. Piort opened it carefully, as if it would explode if it wasn't handled correctly, and sniffed.  
  
"Strawberries?"  
  
St. John looked up from his Jell-o mess. "When did we have those?"  
  
"Dey're mine."  
  
"When did you make them?"  
  
"Ya 'member couple'a nights ago when I didn' come back 'til noon?" he asked. The other two nodded. "De chick was a student chef at de local college, livin' at home wit' 'er parents. She shoved de leftovers off on me."  
  
Piotr pushed the container away. Even John looked mildly disturbed.  
  
"You eat it," Colossus said. "I did not know that girl."  
  
Remy was a little offended by that. "I _said_ it was de leftovers. De stuff we _didn'_ use. It's perfec'ly safe t' eat."  
  
Piotr just looked at him, his expression stony- or metallic, as the case may be. "No."  
  
"Den ya fo'fit," Remy grinned.  
  
Piotr opened his mouth to tell the Cajun off, but St. John cut in.  
  
"I don't feel good, mates." The Australian was looking a little green around the edges. John pushed his bowl away and laid his head down on his arm, moaning in a not-good way.  
  
Remy and Piotr passed a look and quickly got up from the table and moved to the other side of the room. If Pyro was going to blow chunks, neither wanted to be in the same room. Both made a mad dash for the door. They retreated to the TV room to find something to watch. _Swordfish_ was on STARZ, so they watched that, the volume cranked up in case John did puke. They didn't want to hear him. "Do you think we should have left Saint John in the kitchen alone?" Piotr asked over the background music coming from the surround sound speakers.  
  
"Dere are very few people I'd stick around t' see if dey were alright, an' John ain't one o' 'um," Remy yelled back.  
  
The big Russian nodded and went back to trying to follow the plot of the movie.  
  
The volume was up so high that neither heard the warning sounds of Sabertooth on the rampage. Poor, stupid boys.  
  
Well, hope you liked. And, yes, I know that St. John probably didn't really get salmonella, but it makes a good title, no? Just like last time, I need feedback if you want me to continue, so go! Go! Go! ( Luv you! 


	4. Puke and Doodles

Yeah, that's right, Puke and Doodles. Just keep reading, you'll understand. Disclaimer- is pretty pointless; you know the drill.  
  
To SickmindedSucker: They're GUYS. GUYS don't do that kind of thing. GUYS are too manly for that. Weird. Thank you for telling your friend about the story! Woot!  
  
As for the rest of you reviewers: If you want me to write back, then you'd better start saying something interesting. But thanks for all of the commiserations about scary refrigerators. They seem to be a nation-wide epidemic. 8*******************************8************************************8 The volume of the TV was up so high to drown out the possibility of St. John hurling that Remy and Piotr were both completely unaware that they had woken Sabertooth up. Before either had a chance to defend themselves, the big- sleep deprived- mutant was throwing furnisher across the room. Both Acolytes jumped up and faced their "teammate."  
  
John walked in to see Piotr and Remy fighting with a _very_ pissed off Sabertooth. With no further ado, the Aussie strode over to the attacker, looked Victor straight in the eye, and tossed his chunks on him. Sabertooth was smacked by the smell and stumbled out of the TV room, tearing his stinky vomit shirt off as he went.  
  
Remy and Piotr just looked at each other. Remy shrugged as if to say, I doan' know where it came from, but doan' look a gift horse in de mout'.  
  
Pyro smiled blearily before up-chucking on the carpet. Piotr sighed and took John to his room and ordered him not to come out until he was feeling better. Remy got a garbage can, a bowl of cold water, and a rag and left them with John, trusting him to take care of his own damn self.  
  
When they'd left St. John with these amenities (no way were they going to treat him like a sick woman; he'd probably take it as a come on) the two Acolytes looked at the mess they were stuck with. Piotr chose that moment to say something really wise:  
  
"Not it."  
  
"_I'm_ not cleanin' it up!" Remy shot back.  
  
"If it was mine," Piotr said, "I would take my responsibility and clean it up, but it is not."  
  
"I repeat, homme, it ain't goan' be me."  
  
They both stayed quiet for a minute trying to think of a way to get out of their situation.  
  
"Just throw a towel over it or something, at least," Colossus suggested.  
  
So that was the extent of their clean up process. They threw one of St. John's own towels over the spot on the rug. It was an interesting greenish color and stunk to high heaven.  
  
"Wish we had some Fabreez or sumn'," Remy complained.  
  
"Yes, the smell is impressive," Piotr agreed. "Let us go back to the kitchen. I do not want to stay in the same room with it."  
  
"Good idea. Mebe we'll t'ink o' sumn' t' do while we're in dere."  
  
(2:30 PM) Remy was idly shuffling a deck of cards at the kitchen table. Piotr looked ready to shove the deck into one of Remy's orifices; it didn't really matter which one.  
  
"Stop that."  
  
Remy did. For about a second. Then he went back to shuffling, but now he had a purpose: annoying Piotr. You gotta take your kicks where you can get 'em. Piotr flinched as Remy resumed shuffling his cards. In an attempt to not kill him, which would probably make Magneto angry, he started doodling on paper towels. In one of them was the cute little X-girl with the pony tail. It wasn't exactly the love affair of the century, but she made a good subject. The other was a cartoon of Remy getting blown up by one of his own cards.  
  
After a bit, Remy stopped his shuffling. It wasn't as much fun if Piotr was going to ignore his efforts. Instead, the board young man went to hover over Colossus' shoulder, trying to see what he'd drawn.  
  
Piotr noticed and was immediately annoyed again. He stood up to stare down the shorter Cajun. Remy stared back 


	5. Contestants: To Your Corners!

Remy and Piotr kept staring at each other until 7:00. They were going until one of them laughed. Piotr was naturally serious, and Remy wanted to win. They stood there so long they had to call a couple of truces, once to sit down, and a couple of times to go to the bathroom. By seven, each one had the other burned into their retinas.  
  
St. John felt well enough by that point that he risked coming out. He had puked a few more times, drunk the water from the bowl, and taken some Pepto- Bismol, so he was good. He looked for the other two in the living room first, and only found his Las Vegas towel on the floor. He tried the kitchen and found them glaring at each other silently.  
  
"Ummm...Whatta you mates doing?"  
  
"Staring contest," Remy answered.  
  
"Ah. Blinking or laughing?"  
  
"Laughing," Piotr said.  
  
Pyro stood and watched for a moment, then _he_ had to fight off laughter. He snorted and put his hands up to cover his mouth. Both Remy's and Piotr's lips started twitching.  
  
Piotr took a calming breath. "Pyro, shut up," he cautioned him.  
  
"I'm tryin' mate," St. John giggled.  
  
Remy tried concentrating on a serious subject: poker in Las Vegas, and he was bluffing his way out of a pair of twos.  
  
"I swear, St. John, be quiet, or I'm goan..."  
  
That had the opposite effect. A loud HAH! Managed to escape John's hands. Then he just couldn't hold it in any more. He guffawed and chuckled and giggled and snorted until both the competitors were fighting not to join in. Finally, Remy's lips drew up, then Piotr, thinking that he'd won, let out a soft laugh.  
  
"Hah! De champion wins again!" Remy yelled, busting out laughing.  
  
"No. You laughed first," Colossus challenged.  
  
"Uh, no, mon ami, _you_ laughed first," Remy contradicted. "Dese lips smiled before dey laughed. I win."  
  
They turned to look at John expectantly.  
  
"Whatta you looking at me for? I didn't see?"  
  
"Fine, truce," Piotr opted.  
  
"Good enough," Remy agreed. "Now, it's seven. Dere must be sumn' t' do in dis town." 


	6. Wednesday Night

A/N: Hello again! Sorry it took me so long to update last time. We had spring break the week before last and I don't have the internet at home, so I had to wait to abuse school property.  
  
Plus, I was waiting for SickmindedSucker to review, but no... he/she/it decided to be antisocial. If you know SmS, got hit them and tell h/s/it to get his/her/its arss over here and review! Love the rest of you who reviewed, though! Muah! Squish and hugs!!!  
  
PomegranateQueen: 1) cool screen name, me gusta mucho 2) ROMY fun's comin'! I promise! Just hang in there! 3) I bow down to the power of your pouty face.  
  
This has been a public service announcement. Now go read.*********************** ***********************************************************************  
  
Remy got up and stretched, much to St. John's enjoyment. "Wonder who I'm gonna take out t'night? No' too many good lookin' womenb in Bayville."  
  
"'Cept the mutants," John pointed out. "Whatta 'bout the one you were hitting on the other day?"  
  
Piotr shook his head. "She hit him with a book."  
  
"Poe?"  
  
"Tolstoy."  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
Remy frowned. "Yeah, I had a bruise on m' shoulder f'r a week."  
  
"Sounds like your sort of girl, then, mate!" John grinned, grabbing a Sprite he'd strategically hidden in the fridge earlier that week, just now remembering that it was there.  
  
Remy gave him a short stare before going to pick up the phone. He stood for a second, looking up at the ceiling, trying to remember a phone number. John watched in avid interest as Remy apparently remembered and started to dial. After a second, the person on the other line picked up.  
  
"'Lo, uh, zis Lance?"  
  
John laughed. "I thought you were straight! You should've said something!"  
  
Piotr looked at Remy like he was crazy, and smacked John upside the head to get him to quiet down. He was wondering what his teammate was up to. Remy ignored them both.  
  
"So, man, what's 'ere t' do in Bayville t'night?" he continued.  
  
Lance went from wary to 'what the frick?' in record time. "Do you know what day it is?"  
  
"Wednesday."  
  
"This doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" Lance asked sarcastically.  
  
"Lance, jus' gimme an idea."  
  
"It's a Wednesday night, in _Bayville_. The only things open are the fast food joints, the museum, and Borders." Lance heard a crash from the next room. Hoping it was Pietro breaking stuff so that Lance could tell "Daddy" that his son was being destructive to the cause, Lance slammed the phone back on the hook and rushed off.  
  
Remy sneered at the phone, turned it off, and put it back on the table with a derisive grunt. He sat down in the chair he'd recently gotten up out of, and tried to think about what to do. Suddenly, and before his friends could say a word, Remy hopped back up and tore to the garage, stopping only to grab his trench coat and a pair of sneakers- sans socks.  
  
It wasn't until he was five blocks from his destination that he realized how STUPID he looked.  
  
[Shit. Oh, well.]  
  
Finally he made it to the Xavier Institute, where his "enemies" lived. Whatever. They were only his enemies because he was paid for them to be. Still, the only chicks in this town that were hot and matched his speed lived there, so there he went. And besides, he loved a challenge.  
  
They were all just starting to eat dinner, or were about to judging by the very happy and well paid pizza delivery man driving away. Remy snuck around and climbed a tree to get over the wall. Getting closer to the house he heard lots of jumbled sounds and tried to find just the one he wanted. Hopefully Rogue would be cooperative today.  
  
He heard the conversations of people in the kitchen and dining rooms, plates clunking; he heard the TV going- That '70's Show- and the adults telling the students to turn it down. Moving around the house, he found a room on the second story where Madonna was playing on somebody's radio. Then one where Justin Timberlake was trying to rap. Hmm.  
  
Remy had to go nearly all the way around to find the one where Garbage was blaring something about when she grows up. Obviously Rogue _was_ going to play nice.  
  
Just to make sure, he vaulted up onto the balcony and took a quick peek into the room. Rogue was lying on her bed, thumbing through a magazine. She took a pen out from behind her ear and wrote something on her arm- once she had pulled her sleeve back- then went on scanning the pages and nodding her head with the music.  
  
Yup. Right room.  
  
Now he really wanted to go back to Magneto's base so that he could change into some real clothes. He was not about to be seen in his chill clothes in public. He had to make a better impression than that.  
  
=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= A/N: Hoped you liked this chap. The next one is going to be kind of pointless, and involves doing laundry. Hey, even evil villains, or henchmen thereof, need to do laundry, too. And remember: get through that chapter, and stripping comes soon after!!!!! 


	7. Laundry Day

A/N: For you: a pointless little chapter about the Acolytes doing their laundry. You can skip it if you want. It doesn't have any relevants to the plot of the story. Panther and I just thought it would be fun to observe them in their natural habitat and see how they each reacted to a specific stress. Very scientific. Read or don't; it's up to you.************** ************************************************************************  
  
As Remy was riding back to Magneto's base, Piotr and St. John were vegging and not enjoying it. John had gotten so bored that he started to put himself through the police sobriety check.  
  
"I am _so_ BORED," he complained, putting he hands out to his sides, then bringing his index finger in to touch his nose.  
  
"Mmhm," Colossus mumbled while giving himself a ballpoint tattoo.  
  
Pyro got an idea. He stopped walking a straight line (he wasn't very good at it anyway) and sidled up to his teammate.  
  
"So, big boy, wanna go out with me?"  
  
Piotr glared at John. "I am so disturbed."  
  
"Don't deny your feelings!" John teased, giving a mock puppy face.  
  
Colossus shoved his way passed the Aussie and made his way to the garage door. At the door, he turned back around and went to change into some actual clothes. John went with him to the laundry alcove and sorted through the clean clothes that none of them had bothered to put away yet. He ended up with Remy's black bondage pants ( a gift form his old girlfriend in New Orleans (( guess who?)) and one of Piotr's sweat shirts advertising a Russian college, and his own boots.  
  
Piotr came into the laundry semi-room wearing only a white T-shirt and a pair of briefs (A/N: We'll let you decide what color those are).  
  
"Tom Cruisin' it, huh?" Pyro asked.  
  
Piotr gave him a black look. "John, perhaps you should just not talk. And I will drive; you scare me when you are behind the wheel." Colossus pulled a pair of his jeans on. They didn't smell bad, so he figured they were okay. He noticed, finally, the oversized sweatshirt John was wearing. "When we come back, you are putting that in the laundry."  
  
"Sure thing, love," John said, just to tick Piotr off. It worked.  
  
As they were going down the driveway, the other two Acolytes passed Remy on his way back. Since they were in a car, Remy couldn't see John wearing his pants. Pyro waved as the passed.  
  
Back inside, the Cajun tried to find his missing pants. Eventually he settled for finding a _clean_ pair of pants.  
  
"Dirty. Dirty. Bloody... not mine, t'ankfully."  
  
He crouched under their beds to look. He reached under at the hopeful sight of blue denim. When Remy pulled out the pair of pants, they were so old they ripped with the slightest tug. Luckily it was just at the knee and not some place else.  
  
"What de hell happened t' dese?" he wondered out loud. "Who's are dey? Mon Dieu, dey're _mine_. Did John take dese?"  
  
In the end, Remy found no way out of it. He _had_ to do laundry. Twenty minutes later Remy pulled out what was left of that pair of jeans out of the washer. What was left was the waist band, the pockets, and a strip that used to be part of the leg. The rest was a soggy pile at the bottom of the cylinder.  
  
"Hmmm. 'Parently my pants desolve in water," he muttered to himself. Listening to what he just said, Remy broke out in a stupid male smirk and chuckled a little. "So many jokes, so little time. Great, now I'm makin' passes at m'self!"  
  
Shaking his head, Remy started a second load of wash. He grabbed all of his clothes, praying that _something_ would come out alright. In the meantime he cleaned himself up for a night of pissing off hot Goths. He might bother Wanda if the mood struck him... but probably not.  
  
The dryer went off and Remy went to see what had come out. He groaned. He had stuck a sweatshirt in the load which also had his favorite pair of pants in it. This wouldn't be a problem if they hadn't been the corduroys he'd planned on wearing.  
  
With a frustrated sigh he threw the fluffy cords back in the laundry basket. He grabbed a pair of St. John's black denim pants, a bit too tight on him (A/N: take a moment to drool), and began sorting through his clean clothes until he found a semi-Goth one.  
  
It was another one of Belladonna's gifts: a black, button down cotton shirt. It had a red spade outlined on the back with dice showing 11. On the front, over the breast pocket, was the same outline with the words "Lucky 13" on it. He threw it on over the wife beater, just to see Rogue roll her eyes when she saw it. No need for her to know who gave it to him.  
  
Fully dressed, once he got his boots on, he looked at the clock. 9:40. Time to get going. 


	8. Only one thing to do

A/N: Yes! It's what you've all been waiting for! The stripping scene! I ask for forgiveness if I don't describe it very well. I've never seen a stripper, so I'm not entirely sure how things like this work. Other than that, use your imagination where I fail to get the job done. Have fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
At 9:45, Remy went out of the secret base, hopped on his motorcycle again, and set out for his self-appointed task of being an asshole. He got to the Institute a little after 10. Everything was quiet. Did these guys seriously go to bed that early?  
  
Oh, right. SCHOOL. He didn't see the point. He could read, he could write, he could get groceries. What else do you _really_ need to know? (A/N: physics sux!)  
  
This time, getting in was a wee bit harder. Nighttime security and all. Still, it was a little frightening to think that so much technology and fire power were under such flimsy protection. Then again, who but him could pull it off? ; )  
  
Creeping to the shrubbery below Rogue's balcony, Remy tried to think of something less typically high school than throwing rocks at her window. He had nuthin' except maybe blowing something up, but that would probably alert some of the adults, which he didn't want.  
  
*TINK*  
  
Rogue squinted at the balcony doors. She could have sworn she heard something.  
  
*TINK*  
  
There it was again.  
  
"Kitty," she mumbled. "It's fah you."  
  
"I hear it," her roommate said. "I'm going."  
  
Kitty sighed and rolled out of bed. She walked to the French doors, opened them up, and went out on the balcony. Rogue rolled over onto her side and tried to go to sleep. She had a test the next day.  
  
Outside, Rogue could hear Kitty talking for a minute. She couldn't hear the other person, but she figured that it was either Lance or Colossus. Kitty always attracted the bad guys. Why? Rogue heard her giggle and Kitty came back inside, closing the doors behind her.  
  
"It's like for _you_ this time, Rogue."  
  
After a second of disbelieving her, Rogue growled and got up. Kitty phased through the wall to tell Amara and Jubilee what was happening.  
  
Rogue went to the glass doors just as Remy landed on the balcony. She jumped in surprise, then took in what he was wearing. Rogue rolled her eyes at the semi-Goth Cajun. She gave him a sleepy, though still potently wicked smirk and locked the doors.  
  
"Wannabe Goth idiot!"  
  
Remy smirked back at her through the window and started picking the lock. Kitty came back in with every female in the Institute (except Ororo) in tow, all giggling, before he'd gotten the lock popped. Even Roberto was there (A/N: you know it as well as I do!). He had been on his way to play cards with Rahne and Tabby, so the girls waylaid him and drug him into Rogue and Kitty's room with them.  
  
Remy surveyed his slightly larger than anticipated audience and wondered what to do.  
  
[Only one t'ing t' do, self,] he thought. [STRIP!]  
  
Remy gave all the girls- and Roberto- a devilish grin as he pulled hid trench coat off.  
  
"Oh. My. God," one of the girls stammered. "Am I the only one seeing this?" "If you are, you're projecting."  
  
Remy saw his audience getting excited and loved it. He decided to beef the performance up a little and started to unbutton his shirt. Slowly, wishing he had some music to go along with it.  
  
"Aw, shit!" Tabitha squeeled. "Rogue, you get the _best_ stalkers!"  
  
"Is it wrong to be enjoying this?" Amara asked.  
  
"If _I'm_ enjoying it," Jean said, "_you_ can enjoy it."  
  
Rogue smirked right back out the window at his expression. She wondered how far this guy Gambit was going to go. When the shirt slipped off his nice broad shoulders, down his muscled arms, and dropped to the floor of the balcony, Rogue lost the sarcasm and became very appreciative to what genetics could produce.  
  
"The boy is _fine_," she agreed with the girls.  
  
Kitty went over to Rogue and leaned in as far as she dared to whisper, "Roommates share, right? So, like, how about you tell me what you like wanna do to him, and I'll totally do it for you?"  
  
"Kitty!" Rogue was shocked. "You got so corrupted."  
  
"Your fault," she accused. "And, with a view like this, I am like so totally not complaining."  
  
Remy could've gotten through those doors so easily, but he was having way too much fun. He'd taken off the wife beater and had moved on to the button on his- well, _John's_, jeans. He popped it through the hole and was inching the zipper down, listening to the muffled rhythmic clapping, as if there really was music, and cat calls from inside the room.  
  
[If I ever need t' stop de Acolyte t'ing, I c'n still have a future bein' a stripper,] he thought to himself.  
  
Suddenly, the inside door to the room burst open to reveal the dramatic (and idiotic) Scott Summers, ruining all their fun! =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
It's not done yet!! There's more! I just wanted to break it up a bit so that you could savor a bit longer. Savoring? The thought of yummy Remy compels you!!! 


	9. Take it Off!

A/N: Hello, again. I'm so glad that you all like this story, and I just thought that I should tell you all that. I'm typing the last few chapters all at one time because- like I said- I have to update on the computers at school, and we leave school soon (20 days-WOOT!). If I don't answer everybody's comments, the reason is probably because I was too lazy to go back and type it in, so...  
  
Star-of-Chaos: reward...? Not exactly, but wackiness ensues!  
  
PomegranateQueen: Pink tutu? That could be interesting. Make him dance to Barney songs!******************************************************************  
  
"What the hell?!" Scott yelled. "Rogue, Kitty, why is there an Acolyte standing outside your window?"  
  
[He's half naked an' Scott doesn' care?] Rogue thought. [Damn, Xavier _must_ have his 'nads in a jar.]  
  
"Rogue," Jean said having overheard and was not very amused.  
  
Remy pulled the zipper up, but left the shirt and coat where they were, and watched to see what was going to happen.  
  
"Scott, chill," Kitty pleaded. "He like comes in peace."  
  
Scott gave Kitty a very stern stare. We assume. "Why was he unzipping his pants?"  
  
"He was gonna have the windah give 'im a blow job. Who invited _you_ intah _our_ room?" Rogue challenged.  
  
Scott's mouth, along with several others, dropped. Remy wondered what was going on in there.  
  
"I'm telling Logan," Scott threatened. Then he collapsed to the floor, suddenly struck narcoleptic.  
  
Jean turned back to the windows and waved a queenly hand, sending Remy, [Continue.]  
  
Remy laughed out loud, not bothering to try and muffle the sound. Continue?! God, he needed a change of address; things were a _lot_ more fun around the Institute. It had been a good thing for the break, though. It would have been embarrassing as hell to get his pants down and _then_ remember to take off his shoes. This time he slipped out of his sneakers first, and then went back to the zipper.  
  
Tabitha started humming something that sounded vaguely porn movie-ish. "Bow- chicka-bow-bow!"  
  
A couple of the other girls took up the tune. The rest just giggled and continued watching the show.  
  
Remy was now down to the red flannel boxers. He paused, wondering if he should go farther. The girls all waited with baited breath to see if he was going to do it. He shrugged and grinned and hooked his thumbs into the elastic waist band of the boxers.  
  
Squeels and shouts and cat calls erupted from inside the room. Tabitha was urging him on the loudest; Jean was a close second. Rogue lost her nerve and threw her hands up an motioned for him to stop. Kitty started beating her with a pillow to get her to put her damn hands down. Rogue jumped off of her bed and went to the door just as Remy was starting to pull down.  
  
"DON'T!!!"  
  
"Rogue, you are such a party-pooper!" Tabitha yelled at her.  
  
Remy had stopped and motioned for Rogue to come out on the balcony with him. She hesitated, but he went to strip again, so she unlocked the door and stepped out.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
Remy thought fast. He'd hadn't planned quite this far yet. "Y' always got dat bug up y' ass?"  
  
"Ah don't like seein' mah balcony desecrated by naked men," she tried to sound sure of herself.  
  
"Wouldn' be 'desecration'" Remy said. "Prob'ly de most action dis place's seen."  
  
Rogue rolled her eyes. "Ya come here just tah point out we'ah all virgins?"  
  
Remy smiled wickedly. "Y' a virgin, chere? I could help wit dat."  
  
Rogue smirked, closing the distance between them, counting on him backing up against the stone railing. He didn't budge.  
  
"Ah'd rathah do Magneto," she said.  
  
Remy put his hands on his chest, looking wounded but "accidentally" getting a good feel of Rogue's boob in the process. "Ya wound me."  
  
"Ah'll really wound ya if ya don't get 'cho ass outta mah window b'fo' Ah do it for ya," Rogue warned.  
  
"Y' accent is thicker at night," he observed charmingly.  
  
"We'ah two stories up," she observed threateningly.  
  
"'M like a cat, chere."  
  
"Ah wish someone would puttcha back in the bag."  
  
"I wasn' in de bag," he grinned. "Women like you make dat impossible f' me."  
  
"Ah am not talkin' to ya all damn night."  
  
Inside, Jean took a mental poll. After quickly deciding that the group's opinion matched hers, she used her telekinesis to silently close and lock the door. %$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$  
  
A/N: If you didn't like it, go write your own stripper fic! Go ahead. I dare ya. In fact, let me know so I can go read it. Tit-for-tat, and all that; now go REVIEW! 


	10. Click! Flash!

Remy saw the door close before Rogue heard the clink of the lock sliding back in place. She spun around and glared through the glass.  
  
[Now, Rogue. Play nice,] Jean sent her telepathically. Tabitha nudged Jean and said something, pointing out the door at her. Jean grinned. [And Tabby says she wants to see the rest of the show, so think of something to get his boxers off. Live porn accepted.]  
  
"Tabitha's a whore," Rogue mumbled under her breath.  
  
"Wha'ja say, chere?" Remy asked, hopping up on the railing to sit.  
  
Rogue looked at him and couldn't help but admire the view. [Man, he's got a nice chest. And a six-pack. Gotta love that happy trail-get your eyes back up on his face!] she yelled at herself when she realized that her eyes had traveled down a little too far.  
  
"Nuthin'" Rogue said aloud. "Did ya come here f' a purpose, or ya just here t' be pain in mah ass?"  
  
He leered at her. "I'm only a pain in y' ass, chere, if dat's how y' like it."  
  
Rogue glared at him.  
  
[Rogue, Kitty says to move to your left. You're blocking the view.]  
  
Rogue turned around to look inside and flipped them off.  
  
[So harsh when just a few minutes ago you were having just as much fun as we are,] Jean pointed out.  
  
"Som'n' wrong?" Gambit asked.  
  
She turned back to him. "Not fah long, swamp rat." Rogue reached down (now _that_ was a nice picture from inside –FLASH!-) and gathered up his clothes, minus the wife beater, and shoved them into his chest. She used the force and momentum to also sove him off of the railing. True to his word, the boy landed on his feet... ish. He kind of stumbled.  
  
The disappointed "Aw!" was so loud that Rogue could hear it outside. She didn't care. She was watching Gambit get his clothes back on, and, damn, he looked just as good going both ways. He waved bye to her and went back into the woods. Once he was out of sight, rogue turned around, swooped down and picked up the under shirt she had purposefully forgot. Rogue waved it at the dejected girls through the doors, then put it to her nose and took a deep breath.  
  
[Mmm. Now doesn' he jus' smell _so_ good?]  
  
Accepting the trophy as a slight retribution for driving away the entertainment, Jean unlocked the door so that Rogue could come in. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&  
  
A/N: Short chap, I know. Sorry. The next will be longer, and hopefully kind of funny. If you like strange spontaneity. You'll see. 


	11. Morning Surprises

The next morning, all of the girls (and the guys, but who cares about them?) were eating breakfast after their D.R. session. The doorbell rang unexpectedly. Ororo answered it/ The Prof. wheeled out of the kitchen a minute later, having heard Storm's mental confusion and request for assistance. Soon he rolled back into the room, Ororo close behind him.  
  
"Students, we have a new recruit," he announced. "You'll never guess who."  
  
Scott made a mental note to cut down the Professor's pixie-stick intake (which he soon "forgot").  
  
Ororo rolled her eyes and told someone to come on in.  
  
A few girls choked on their milk/juice/coffee/whatever. Kitty dropped her spoon. Rogue slammed her head into the table and left it there. Tabitha whistled and laughed with joy. Roberto excused himself from the table.  
  
The adults looked at them like they might have just gotten their minds taken over by Mesmero or something.  
  
"I, like, totally forgot!" Kitty said all of a sudden. "I have to go help network the computer lab. Jean, will you drive me?"  
  
Jean nodded her head, grabbing at the really pathetic excuse and T.K.ed her purse to her. Eventually, all the girls except for Rogue, Rahne, Jubilee, and Tabitha got a quick ride to the high school. The left-behinds, minus Tabby, dreaded having to talk to Remy.  
  
The guys were confused about the girls behavior. Scott was apprehensive, to say the least, but he wasn't freaking out.  
  
"O-kay, so um..." Bobby asked what was on everybody's mind, "why are you here?"  
  
"Decided Magneto was evil, an' genecidin' de poor humans was wrong, an'...." He decided to screw it and grinned. "I needed mo' female in'eraction an' dis was de place t' get it," he admitted.  
  
The Professor put his head in his hand and rolled his eyes. That wasn't exactly the reason he wanted to have broadcasted to the younger boys who were already to hormonal for their own good.  
  
"Female interaction, huh?" Tabitha asked, smirking. "There are a couple of us who could help you there."  
  
Ororo said the girl's name warningly. Jubilee and Rahne scurried out, not even bothering to give an excuse. Rogue tried to follow them, but Tabby blocked her way.  
  
"Hey, Rogue! Don't you have something you need to return to our new teammate?"  
  
"Why would Ah have somethin' o' his?" she asked. [Ah am so gonna get ya fo' this, Tabby.]  
  
"I do seem t' be missin' an undershirt," Remy said, pretending to ponder.  
  
"Why would Rogue have your undershirt?" Ororo asked.  
  
"Yeah, why would Ah have ya undershirt, swamp rat?" on under her shirt from Hot Topic.  
  
Tabitha and Remy both smirked at her. Rogue felt cornered, so she groped for a good excuse to get her out of there. Hell, any excuse would do.  
  
"Damn. Look at the time. Ah said Ah'd... go an' clap erasers at school," she said, going around Tabitha to the back door, grabbing her backpack on the way out. "Ah'll be late comin' home, too. Ah'm donatin' mah spleen f' research."  
  
She slammed the door behind her.  
  
"Something happened that I should know about, didn't it?" Scott asked. He had that weird feeling that he'd forgotten something important. (Jean's powers were able to make him forget, but she couldn't handle double-think yet.)  
  
Scott spent all day trying to figure out what he'd forgotten. Rogue spent all day agonizing about Remy; and occasionally smelling his shirt. Remy spent his day looking around the Institute.  
  
Rogue watched the other girls squirm during lunch. She herself was a little leary about what Remy was going to say about the night before. But then she realized how dumb this was. Why should she care what he thinks of her? She got through the rest of the day not at all perturbed about what Remy was thinking of her.  
  
That lasted until she actually got back to the institute. She arrived before the rest of the female students because they all suddenly had things to do after school. The only legit one was Tabitha, who had a doctor's appointment.  
  
Since Rogue was the only one home, and still in possession of his wife beater, Remy naturally flirted with her.  
  
"Come on, Rogue, y' can' tell me dat y' didn' enjoy de show."  
  
"Ah plead the fi'th." "Which is as good as sayin' guilty," he said.  
  
She tried to walk out of the kitchen with the Vanilla Coke she'd gone in to get in the first place. Remy blocked her way, leaning against the door jam. It was such a practiced pose, Rogue had to roll her eyes.  
  
"Pu-leeze. An' jus' how long ya plannin' on stayin'?" she asked. "Long enough tah find our strengths an' weaknesses, then back tah Magneto? Or, even bettah, outta our lives f' good."  
  
"Haven' decided yet," he shrugged. "Why doan y' try t' convice me t' stay?"  
  
"Only in yo wildest dreams, swamp rat," she pushed himout of the way and went into the hall.  
  
"And in yours, chere," he called after her, almost like a curse.  
  
Rogue rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond to that. She went up to her room to do her homework. She sat cross-legged on her bed and put on her headphones to listen to a CD Risty- er, Mom while she'd been passing herself off as her best friend had lent her. Still, just because the giver was a biotch, didn't mean Rogue had to punish Ani.  
  
During one really hard geometry proof combined with a good song that she really liked, Rogue started to mess with Remy's wife beater, running it through her fingers unconsciously.  
  
Tabitha, Kitty, Roberto, and Amara were in the doorway watching her and trying not to laugh too loud. Rogue heard them anyway and spun around to see them. They finally let loose and busted out laughing.  
  
"I knew you had the shirt," Tabitha gasped out, "but I didn't know you had it on!"  
  
"Ah'll kill you if ya tell!"  
  
"Oh, Gaaambiiiit!" Kittly called down the hall teasingly.  
  
Rogue launched herself off of her bed and went for the people in the door. They scrambled. She went after Kitty first. Luckily, Shadowcat had a secret weapon.   
  
A/N: I don't own Coke or Ani DiFranco, or anything else that I don't own. Maybe some day. See you next time. 


	12. Grab it!

A/N: This will probably be the last chapter. It's been fun, everybody! Thank you all for coming back time after time (lets take a moment to brake out into Cyndi Luaper). Panther Nesmith and I would just like to say that, if you like this story, we may just put up one that we have that's even better. We ain't nowhere near done. ()  
  
"Don't!" Kitty squeeled. "I have something you'll want!" She pulled something out of her pocket.  
  
"Like hell!"  
  
Kitty unfolded the printed out picture and waved it in front of her roommate before Rogue dismembered her.  
  
Rogue saw a picture of herself bending down, apparently giving a grinning, naked Remy a blow job. "Give me that!" she yelled, half tackling Kitty.  
  
Kitty phased through Rogue's charge and smiled at her enraged roommate, who tried to swipe the picture out of her intangible hand.  
  
"Ah'll kill you in ya sleep," Rogue promised, defeated.  
  
"I'll, like, tear this up if you... um..." Kitty tried to think of something that would be fun to watch, but totally humiliate her friend. (A/N: kids can be so mean.)  
  
"Kiss him!" Amara suggested excitedly.  
  
Tabitha joined in. "Yeah! And not just a quick one. I want tonsil hockey!"  
  
Rogue looked scandalized. "Ah cain't make out with him! Mah powers-"  
  
"What about a piece of cloth or something?" Kitty piped up.  
  
"You could get him through that," Roberto agreed.  
  
"Hey! He speaks French, and she's gonna French him," Amara pointed out childishly.  
  
Rogue scowled. "Ah don' care if he spoke Italian, Ah ain't kissin' him!"  
  
"Kiss him, and I'll, like, make this picture go away forever," Kitty promised.  
  
"How 'bout Ah don' kill ya an' ya make that picture go away f'evah?"  
  
"That may stop her," Tabitha grabbed the picture from Kitty, "but I'll tell everyone about what you have on under your shirt," she wagged her eyebrows suggestively.  
  
"Ah'll tell everybody about some o' the things ya did when ya were at the Brothahhood," Rogue threatened.  
  
"I'm not ashamed!"  
  
"Even if it'd hurt somebody?" Rogue asked, knowing that Kitty still wasn't fully over Lance, and that hearing that he'd had sex with Tabby would probably make her cry.  
  
Tabitha stopped to consider. She really didn't want to hurt Kitty....  
  
"What about me?" Roberto asked, taking the picture. "You've got nothing on me."  
  
"You lent a book tah Tabby," Rogue smirked knowingly. "She lent it tah me. Don't think Ah won't out ya tah save mah own ass."  
  
'Berto went pale.  
  
Amara took her turn with the picture. "Hah! I'm clean. You couldn't stop me from exposing that picture and telling people about the shirt."  
  
Damn! They'd traded off secrets last week. Rogue had nothing on her.  
  
"Ah am not kissin' him!" she insisted. "Ah'd kill him an' Ah really don't wanna have him in mah head f' the rest o' mah life."  
  
"How about you just grab his ass?" Roberto suggested.  
  
"Not as good as snogging, but I'll deal with a little slap-n-tickle," Tabitha relinquished.  
  
The others nodded.  
  
"Ah don't wanna grab his ass," Rogue whinned.  
  
"Grab who's ass?" came Logan's growl from down the hall. "No, wait. Let me guess. The new guy?"  
  
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were the psychic around here, Badger," Tabby grinned.  
  
Rogue gave Tabitha a dirty look. Logan sniffed around the girls.  
  
"One of you smells like him already." He looked at Tabitha, assuming that it would be her, but then realizing that it wasn't her.  
  
Rogue stopped dead. [OH, hell.]  
  
Jean popped into her head with a way out. [You know what you have to do. I can make this go away. Just a bit of garbage...]  
  
[FINE!]  
  
Logan's face went blank. He shook his head and turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "The Prof. wants everybody in the war room."  
  
The girls headed to the war room, following Logan. Everybody else was present as well. Jean elbowed Rogue. She grumbled and went over to Remy.  
  
[Not just a pinch, either,] Jean thought to her. [I want to see whole-hand action. And not a pat: whole hand grab, got that?]  
  
[Alright!! Gawd, like I've nevah grabbed a guy's ass before.]  
  
Jean's eyes widened a bit. [You have?]  
  
[Yeah. Not tellin' who or when.]  
  
Rogue reached out, steeled her nerves...... and backed away as quickly as possible.  
  
Remy turned around. [Wha' de fuck?!] He saw the slutty blonde, the brunette Colossus had a crush on, the red-head Jean, plus two more girls and a boy he didn't know snorting and giggling in a corner and giving high-fives. Rogue was almost running toward them, clenching her fists all the way.  
  
Once she got to the little group, she held out her hand and Kitty put something in it. Rogue crushed it in her fist and stalked to the girls' changing room to get into her uniform. Her friends started to full out crack up and look over at him.  
  
He wasn't completely sure what had just happened, but Remy thought he had a pretty good guess. He grinned charmingly and did his classic wave/salute to acknowledge the joke. His gaze went to the door Rogue had gone through and his grin got wider. He was gonna love being on this team. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
THE END 


End file.
